


What's A Few More?

by scilessweetheart



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cooking, Family Dinners, Flashbacks, Stiles Needs a Break, Stilinski Family Feels, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:41:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27988632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scilessweetheart/pseuds/scilessweetheart
Summary: Thanksgiving had always been a big holiday in the Stilinski household. Ever since Stiles could remember, the McCalls would come over bright and early, carting baskets of ingredients, to help cook and spend the day with them. As time went on, and their lives changed, they had to adapt and modify their traditions. This year, it included the new, honorary members of their messy family.
Relationships: Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski
Kudos: 27





	What's A Few More?

**Author's Note:**

> So at least I started this on thanksgiving? That's really all I have to say for myself after posting this in the middle of December. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!! And make sure to do your research about the history of this holiday and recognize Native Americans. 
> 
> I imagined this to take place after season 3A.

Thanksgiving had always been a big holiday in the Stilinski household. Ever since Stiles could remember, the McCalls would come over bright and early, carting baskets of ingredients, to help cook and spend the day with them. This year was no different.

“Can someone help me with these bags?” Melissa McCall called out, nudging their front door open with her foot, as her arms were full.

“Coming, Melissa!” Stiles called out, hopping off the stool and running to meet her.

He took one of the bags from her arms, and almost tipped over because of the weight. While he liked to think he was big and strong, the bag was about half of his size.

“Are you sure you’ve got it?” She asked hesitantly.

“Uh huh.”

He stumbled over to where his dad was by the counter, allowing him to take the bag and lift it up. Stiles wasn’t quite tall enough to put something like this up that high. Just as the bag left his arms, he heard a yell from the front door.

“Stiles!”

The boy spun around and sprinted towards his best friend. “Scott!”

Hearing the arrival of her friends, Claudia Stilinski made her way down the stairs to greet them. Seeing Stiles and Scott engaged in a tight hug, she laughed, telling Melissa, “You’d think it had been more than 48 hours since those two last saw each other.”

“I know.”

She heard a thud and instinctively rolled her eyes. Scott and Stiles stood behind her, eyes wide. A gleaming new lacrosse stick sat in Stiles’ hands, probably from Scott’s recent birthday, and the ball was dangerously close to the leg of her decorative table.

“Hey! Take it outside!” Claudia scolded them playfully, shooing them out the door.

“Sorry, mom!” Stiles called back.

She laughed, turning back to face Melissa. “I swear he’ll be the death of me.”

“Claudia! Don’t forget about-” Noah called out, and her jaw dropped.

“The rolls!” She practically ran into the other room towards the oven, Melissa following closely behind.

“I’ll help.”

Melissa and Claudia made their way to the kitchen, still laughing about the ridiculousness of their sons. Meanwhile, Rafael McCall took a seat across from Noah Stilinski, who was currently watching the football game.

“McCall.” Noah nodded to the other man from his seat in the chair.

Rafael plopped down on the sofa. “Stilinski.”

They watch the game in near silence, occasionally cursing out the referees, yelling about an interception, or cheering for a touchdown. It was the closest the two really came to getting along, actually. Even though Rafael loved the Dallas Cowboys, while Noah hated them on principal. It was just how they worked.

After about two hours, Scott and Stiles reentered the house. They, unfortunately, were covered in sweat and grass stains. Claudia sent them upstairs to get cleaned up, despite their protests. Luckily, both of them were in their regular clothes and not yet wearing the nice shirts they had specifically for holidays. Both of their parents learned their lesson after the first year.

They returned, freshly clean, and already looking for something to do. For the first time, surprisingly, they wandered into the kitchen to see what Claudia and Melissa were working on.

Claudia eyed them, amused. “How about you two come and help? It will make this go by a lot quicker.”

Scott’s smile widened. “Sounds fun! Stiles?”

“Yeah!”

They ran over and hopped onto the seats in front of the island. Melissa placed a bowl and whisk in front of Stiles, while she spread out flour in front of Scott. She plopped the dough onto it, before carefully handed Scott the rolling pin. The look on her face made it clear that she was hesitant about delegating this task to him.

“Here, you can mix these together, Stiles. Scott, roll this out for the bread.”

They caught on fast. Melissa had to help Scott roll out the dough at first, and Stiles sprayed sugar out of the bowl and onto the floor, but they didn’t do nearly as bad as expected. This encouraged them even more, and they finished their tasks quickly.

“This is fun!” Scott exclaimed. He was somehow covered in flour, despite the fact that all the ingredients had been already put away.

“Then you can help us next year!” Claudia told them.

Stiles looked around eagerly, his hands tapping impatiently on the granite. “What else is there?”

“Do you want to taste test the mashed potatoes?”

They nodded eagerly, so Melissa handed them each one of the beaters she had been using to mix it.

“This is amazing.” Scott complimented her with a grin.

Stiles groaned. “You did a great job, Melissa.”

“Why, thank you.” She started wiping down the counter as she ordered them “Now, we’re almost done, so you can play for a little longer. Before I call you down, though, you need to wash your hands.”

Melissa slid her pie into the oven, as the two headed upstairs to Stiles’ room. The pie took about twenty minutes to bake, so before long, she was calling Scott and Stiles back downstairs. All things included, it took them about three hours to cook everything. She was happy to realize that Scott and Stiles had listened to her and washed their hands, so they were left fidgeting in their seats and the adults put their plates together. Eventually, they were all able to sit down.

Claudia cleared her throat. “So, everyone, I think we should go around and share what we’re thankful for. I can start. I’m very thankful for my happy and healthy family and that we were all able to spend this holiday together.”

“I’m thankful for Scott!” Stiles practically shouted.

“I’m thankful for Stiles!” Scott looked around to see the expectant, yet amused, expressions of the adults around him. “And my family, of course.”

Melissa couldn’t help but laugh at the boys. “I’m thankful for the Stilinskis and to have good friends like them.”

“I’m thankful the Cowboys won their game.” Rafael told them, not-so-subtly glancing back to the television.

Noah didn’t bother commenting on it, instead saying “I’m thankful that everyone here is safe and healthy,” and squeezing his wife’s hand.

Stiles looked around eagerly. “Are we done?”

They all laughed. “Yes, go ahead and eat.”

Stiles looks back on that day with such fond memories.

After his mom died, they had to adapt. They ate later in the day due to his dad’s new job as the sheriff, choosing to eat around six, rather than three. The tension between the sheriff and Scott’s dad grew now that Melissa was the only buffer, but neither of them acted too badly. Stiles and Scott continued to help Melissa, which Stiles expected she was grateful for. There were only five of them, so there wasn’t too much food, but it still seemed like a lot of work.

The next year, Rafael and Melissa were divorced, so he was gone too. Which wasn’t a huge loss in Stiles’ opinion (or his dad’s, he suspects), though he knew it was rough on Scott and Melissa. It did relieve some of the extra pressure, however. While his dad was at work during the day, Scott, Stiles, and Melissa played 80’s music loudly and spent way more time than necessary cooking. They had a fun time and a relaxed day, even though the absences at the table were more than noticeable.

Here Stiles is, eight years later, with his arms full of groceries. He is trying, and failing, to unlock his door without dropping everything. He’d rather face another alpha werewolf than make two trips to his car. Luckily, after holding the bag of apples with his teeth and almost dropping a carton of eggs, he finally can see well enough to get his key in the door. He steps into the house, his phone carefully wedged between his shoulder and his ear.

“Are you still coming over?” Stiles asks into the phone, kicking the door closed behind him.

Scott scoffs. “Of course! Like my mom would accept any excuses.”

“Good, because I just spent like, 2 hours shopping.” He jokes, dropping the bags onto the counter.

“Do you mind if we bring Isaac? It’s just, he doesn’t really have anywhere else to go, and I feel bad leaving him here, and-”

Stiles is quick to cut him off. “Dude. Of course Isaac can come. I planned for a lot of leftovers. Like, a lot.”

He can practically hear the sigh of relief over the phone. “Okay, good.”

He drops the bags onto his counter and begins to remove them from the bags when his phone rings yet again. He pauses to pick it up, quickly checking the caller ID.

“Melissa?”

“Hi, Stiles. Exactly… how big is your dining room.” She asks him sounding nervous.

Stiles pauses. “I’d say pretty big. Why?”

“I invited the Argents to spend Thanksgiving with us. I hope that’s okay.”

“Uh… yeah, sure.”

“Are you sure that’s okay? We can also move it to my house.”

He shakes off his hesitance. “No, no. Of course not. They’re totally good to come here.”

“Great. Thank you. Thank your dad for me as well.”

He preheats the oven and puts all of the ingredients onto the counter before getting to work. It is already 2:30, so Scott should be arriving anytime now. Not that he has ever been on time. But Stiles knows to expect that. He puts on his playlist and peels all the potatoes. “Talk Too Much” by COIN plays through his speakers so loudly, he almost doesn’t hear the knock on the door.

He turns down the volume and heads to the front. When he opens the door, he is surprised to see a familiar strawberry-blonde standing on his doorstep. He is keenly aware of the potato juice covering his hands.

“Lydia. Hi.” He tells her, surprised.

“Hi. Can I come in?”

“Sure.” He steps aside, allowing her to enter. “What’s up?”

She pauses, glancing towards his kitchen full of food. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, cooking for Thanksgiving. It can wait.” He brushes it off.

Her eyes widen and she takes a step back. “I didn’t even think about that. I can come back a different time.”

“No, you don’t have to. Did you… not realize that was today?”

She shrugs and straightens her skirt calmly. “I knew it was coming up because of our school break, but it hadn’t crossed my mind. We don’t do anything for it.”

“You’re welcome to stay. You can talk while I cook.”

She shakes her head. “Oh, I couldn’t impose.”

“Don’t worry about it. There’s about seven of us right now, so what’s one more?”

“If you’re sure…”

“I am.” He insists.

He goes back to his spot by the counter, while Lydia hops up onto the counter. She begins to ramble about her theories about banshees and her powers, while he continues to work on dinner. Specifically, dicing the potatoes he just peeled. Not his best idea, as he almost cuts himself because he’s paying closer attention to her than the small blade in his hand.

“Anyway, so I was thinking…” She begins to talk, while he tried to focus on cooking.

After a little while, he hears the sound of his front door opening. While normally that would be alarming, he knows with almost 100% certainty that neither of the McCall’s have knocked on his door in years. Lydia, however, looks around nervously.

“Scott?” He calls out hopefully.

“Melissa.” The woman responds. She steps into the kitchen and seems surprised to see Lydia. “Oh, hi sweetheart.”

“Lydia is staying too, if that’s okay.” He looks towards her hopefully.

She only laughs. “Stiles. Absolutely. It’s your house and I’ve already invited two people, and Scott’s bringing Isaac, so…”

“Yeah, just checking.” He eyes the bag in her hands. “Pie?”

“You know it. Now move out of the way.” She teases him.

Lydia hops off the counter and moves to the living room. She mentions something about a project for her independent study in set theory, so she has no problem moving out of their way. She sits down on the edge of the couch and pulls her laptop out of her bag as Melissa brings out her ingredients.

“My dad is getting off at around four, do you know where Scott is? He’s supposed to be helping me.” He asks Melissa.

She gives him a look. “Are you surprised?”

“Surprised? No. Frustrated? Always.”

They were interrupted by the door swinging open, and said werewolf making his entrance. “I’m here! I’m here. Sorry.”

“Perfect timing, as always.” Stiles jokes, immediately stepping aside. “Start the rolls.”

Scott rolls up his sleeves and takes his place. “Got it.”

Stiles looks up to see the blond boy cautiously entering the house behind Scott. He takes pity on him, and gestures to where Lydia is doing her homework in the living room. “Isaac, you can sit on the couch if you want.”

“Are you sure you don’t want help or something?”

Scott waves him off. “Nah, don’t worry. Mom, Stiles, and I have been doing this since we were about six. We have this process down to a tee.”

“If you’re sure.”

He still seems nervous, so Stiles jokes, “The fact that you even asked is a step up from my dad already.”

“That’s rude.” The sheriff grumbles, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

“You’re here early!”

He ignores them and sinks into his chair, reaching for the television remote. “And just in time for the game.”

“Why am I not surprised?” He rolls his eyes and goes back to cutting up the potatoes.

“After ten years, Stiles, you should just give up.” Scott tells him.

“Never.” He turns back to his father and shouts. “You don’t even like the Cowboys! You like the 49ers!”

“Exactly. I need to make sure they lose.” He tells them with an unnecessary amount of intensity.

“You’re ridiculous.”

Scott nudges him. “Hey, less talking, more cutting.”

“At least I was here on time, so shut your mouth.”

“Okay, I’m heading out back to cook the steaks. I don’t think they should take too long, but I definitely don’t want to wait until the last minute. Will you two be okay in here?” She eyes Stiles wearily.

He only waves her off. “We’ll be fine.”

Scott glances around. “Should we have invited Derek? I feel like he should be here.”

Stiles takes one look at Scott’s face and knows. “You texted him didn’t you.”

“Maybe.” Scott at least has the decency to look guilty.

“Scott!”

“I felt bad! All he has is Peter!”

Stiles gives him a look. “How do we know he isn’t showing up too?”

“Derek said he had no intentions of ‘wasting his time with a bunch of lower specimens celebrating a fictitious and unnecessary holiday.’”

“… yeah that sounds about right.”

“He does want leftovers, though.” Scott informs him, while Stiles has to resist the urge to strangle him.

“I’m not convinced we have enough for the people here! There were supposed to be four of us, Scott!”

“Oops?” Scott frowns, looking down at the bowl of stuffing in front of him. 

Stiles sighs and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, relax. We’ll figure it out. You did a nice thing.”

They get back to what they were doing, finding their groove. After almost two hours, they are making good progress, but Stiles still isn’t sure they will have enough food. It’s seriously stressing him out. He doesn’t have time to dwell on that though, because his casserole timer goes off at the same time he hears a knock on the door.

“Dad! Get the door!” Stiles calls out, elbow deep in the oven.

“But-” His dad groans.

Stiles immediately interrupts him. “No!”

“Don’t boss me around.” The sheriff grumbles, but he stands up anyways.

He opens the door to reveal Derek Hale, standing awkwardly in the doorway

“Hello.”

“Derek.” Noah’s eyebrows shoot up. “I wasn’t aware you would be joining us.”

“Did Scott not tell you?”

“Scott is about to get murdered!” Stiles calls out from the other room.

Noah rubs his forehead exasperatedly and widens the door so Derek can come in. “Stiles is having a tough time. Come on in. They’re in the kitchen.”

A few seconds later, Derek is standing in front of him. “Wow.” The table is covered in various types of food, but the kitchen is a disaster, Scott is holding three plates, and Stiles’ arm is dangerously close to an open flame. “I brought a pie.”

“That’s great. We definitely could use more food.” Stiles grins, moving aside the green bean casserole to make room for it.

“If it’s a problem that I’m here, I can-” Derek looks towards the door hesitantly.

Scott cuts him off. “No, it’s not you. We were just expecting the regular group of four – me, my mom, Stiles, and Noah.”

“You are cooking for three extra people?”

The doorbell rang, causing Stiles to run a hand through his hair, getting flour in it. “Five, actually.”

“Do you…?”

He laughs to himself and waves him off. “No, it’s fine. I’m just being dramatic. We’re almost done.”

This time, Lydia was the one to open the door. She greets Allison with a hug and wastes no time ushering them into the house. They start talking to the others right as Scott pulls the last dish out of the oven. They move all the extra dishes to the sink to deal with later and put all of the food, plates, and silverware out. Surprisingly there looked to be enough food for everyone. And they did a great job, too.

Stiles and Scott high-fived.

“Okay. It’s ready. Come get your plates!” Stiles calls out, leaning back against the counter.

Stiles has to admit – he’s pretty proud of them. In the three hours since he arrived home, he managed to make mashed potatoes, mac and cheese, and green bean casserole. Which doesn’t seem like a lot, but he had to time it all out with Scott and Melissa, who also needed the oven for their rolls and apple pie, respectively. Because of course Melissa won’t let them attempt to cook multiple things at once in there. Scott also made the stuffing and the gravy, while Melissa cooked the steaks. It was complicated, but nothing they hadn’t done before. Well, this time the amount of people they were cooking for doubled. But still.

Plus, they had Derek’s pumpkin pie. Which was nice.

“Wow, this looks great.” Lydia tells him. “Why did you make steaks? Not that it doesn’t look delicious, of course.”

“My mom has always hated ham and none of us know how to cook a turkey.” Stiles informs her with a grin, grabbing a piece from around her. He could see her eyes soften at the mention of his mom and, for once, he decided to not brush off the sympathy. She loved this holiday, and he wants to remember her.

The sheriff snorts. “I can’t believe you guys pulled this off.”

“Do you have any sodas?” Isaac asks.

Eventually, they all sat down. They had to drag over some extra chairs from around the house, so it was a hodgepodge of seating. He sat next to Scott, who was next to Melissa, who sat next to Argent, who was next to Allison, who sat by Isaac, who picked the seat next to Derek, who sat next to his dad, who was next to Lydia, and then it all came back to him. It is less complicated than it sounds, not that anything about this had been simple.

It didn’t matter. They were all here.

He couldn’t help but be extremely grateful for the people around him. He knows that is super cheesy, but that’s what this holiday is for. They all almost died at least a hundred times. But they didn’t. Instead, they are sitting around his table, joking about how he is somehow still covered in flour. Totally worth it. He misses his mom, though. He knows she would’ve loved this. Loved all of them. But he feels like he did his best to honor her today, and that’s what is important.

His dad gives him a small smile from across the table, Melissa gives him a knowing look, and Scott pats his shoulder, as if the three of them can read his mind. Knowing them, they probably can. They are his family, after all.

Stiles clears his throat. “So, we all have this tradition. Does everyone want to say what they are thankful for?”

**Author's Note:**

> That ended up way cheesier than I expected it to. Oops.
> 
> Also, if you are interested in Stiles' playlist, check it out on my Spotify! (It's just Stiles Stilinski by katiegracie03).


End file.
